It's Still Life

Breakfast, and Other Small Violences

the spoon snapping
like a jack russell
at the bowl,

metal
tapping his teeth —

a bright, unbearable code.

Stop scraping.

The chew,
the crunch …

do I sound like this
to the world?

like a broom
worrying the floor
with every breath?

His phone leans
against the salt shaker,

thumb scrolling
through other lives.

Again
that scrape.

I step outside,
air rinsing off the edges.

I love this man —

but not
his noises.

Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge for April 2026. Prompt word: love and anti-love

Not all images are created using Midjourney, but all writing is my own original work. ©Misky 2006-2026.